


Solo Production

by DictionaryWrites



Category: The Hour
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-23 23:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2559680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Masturbation fic. NSFW, obviously: Freddie thinks of Bel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solo Production

Freddie lets out a quiet sigh, dropping back across his bed; the door is closed shut, the dresser shifted slightly over its edge to stop it from being opened up without warning.

He’s in just his shirt, rolled up to his forearms as it often is, and his braces are loosened for the sake of comfort.

His shoes he kicked off as he came into the room, and now he leans back onto the mattress, his hand slipping down to unbutton his trousers.

For once, Freddie’s gaze doesn’t wander to the papers all over the walls: his focus is somewhat singular for the time being.

He unbuttons his braces from his trousers, then wriggling out of them and his underwear, until his braces hang off the bed and the rest bunches around his knees.

He wraps his left hand around himself then - he’s not hard, not yet, but with a little attention he begins to swell.

He thinks of the phone at the end of his bed, imagines holding the set in the crook of his shoulder, Bel whispering filth down the line to him as she takes on much the same position on that couch in her front room.

God, he loves that little sofa - how many times has he imagined sitting back on it with his hands at his sides, staying still and obedient as Bel lowers herself onto his cock?

Bel, Bel, Bel - Bel biting and nipping at his neck as he thrusts eagerly up and into her, Bel kissing him so hard he feels breathless and light of head, Bel completely naked and watching Freddie just like this.

God, the thought of it.

"Touch yourself slower." She’d say, taking slow steps towards him that make her hips sway tantalisingly. "You’re not putting on much of a show."

"Easy there, Moneypenny." He’d retort. "I’m not on the job now-" But he’d not be able to say much more, no: Bel would slip forwards and lower herself onto him in one movement, hot and wet and tight.

His hand is moving furiously on his prick now, and he’s utterly stiff, letting out harsh little exhalations as his hips give uncontrollable thrusts into his hand. It feels good, God, it feels good, and there’s slick on the head of his prick, slick he lets his thumb play over.

Freddie comes with a whine of a gasp, pressing his face to the pillow to keep from uttering any louder sounds.

He rides it through, feels the spurts of thin, wet white on his hand, and then he drops back, taking in deep, slow breaths.

He takes a moment to delight in the bliss of it, and then the tiredness hits him, making his eyelids flutter. He grasps at his handkerchief and wipes his hand off, and, guiltily, he thinks of Bel.

Bel who’d probably never speak to him again if she knew about this.

He lets out a quiet sigh, dropping the handkerchief aside, and then he reluctantly stands, shrugging off his clothes and flicking off the light before flopping into bed.

Freddie closes his eyes tightly, and does his best to focus on sleeping instead of anything - or anyone - else.

As always, it’s harder than it ought be.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic can be found on Tumblr [ here](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com/post/101629404553/solo-production). If you'd like to make any requests, my ask is [here](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com/ask), and my [ commission info is here](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com/post/95787169223/check-me-out-on-ao3-my-writing-tumblr-or).


End file.
